


Dreams & Illusion

by SheyrinaLabyrinthianDragon



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, No Smut, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheyrinaLabyrinthianDragon/pseuds/SheyrinaLabyrinthianDragon
Summary: She thought it was a dream, a figment of her imagination. What she didn't realize was that dreams could be more than illusions of the mind, they could be wishes in the heart.





	Dreams & Illusion

**Author's Note:**

> ~*O*~
> 
> Disclaimer: All things Labyrinth are not mine.
> 
> ~*O*~
> 
> This story has been transferred from my FFN account. Although it is broken into 3 parts there, I have chosen to list it as one continuous whole here.
> 
> -
> 
> A/N: There was this lovely cosplay photo by EVA on one of the Labyrinth fan groups, and apparently my muse found it highly inspiring, so we have this, which is also more in line with my usual style of writing.

_you're illusion_  
_you're deception_  
_a shade_  
_a dream_  
_a crystal-conjuring  
_ _fantasy_

-Excerpt from "Phantasm"  
~by Sheyrina

~*O*~

The afternoon sun beat down heavily on the quaint little park of her childhood. The day was unseasonably warm, the air still and dry with a breathless quality that left the throat parched and the lungs feeling famished. Indian summer these kind of days were called. The last vestige of defiance given by a season that refused to give in to the encroaching chill of autumn. Though the trees were clothed in their full fall regalia of brilliant reds, fiery oranges, and burnished golds, it wouldn't be long until the first breath of winter swept in and began to undress them, slowly stripping away their finery till they stretched, torpid and bare, to the wintry grey skies.

Walking along the sidewalk with her little brother beside her, Sarah's mind drifted in the introspection of her thoughts. Thoughts that flitted through her head like the passing of seasons, each one reminding her just how quickly time could pass by.

Time.

Time was a funny thing. It seemed only yesterday that Toby had been little more than a babe in arms. She remembered all too clearly the toddler he was before she'd gone off to university, and how much he'd grown each time she visited for the holidays. In that time, she'd earned her degree and managed to find an internship at a small publishing house. It paid enough and still allowed her to pursue her own personal goals of authorship. She had her own apartment, paid her own bills, and life, in general, was good. She was happy, and as young as she was, she really couldn't ask for more.

Then there were days like today, when time seemed to stand still, the minutes wavering in slow motion, mirages of moments rising like the waves of heat seen in the distance. There, but not there, as if Time could be manipulated, like magic.

There.

Magic.

That was its own source of abstraction.

Sarah looked down at her little brother and recalled the memory of a dream long past. For it had to have been a dream. Magic didn't exist in real life. There were no such things as faeries or goblins or cowardly dwarves. Talking worms, gravity-defying staircases, and fox knights in charge of belching bogs were the sort of things one dreamed up on an extreme acid trip.

And there were certainly no such things as villainous baby-snatching Goblin King's with a heavy dose of sex appeal.

"Whatsa matter, Sarah?" Toby poked her in the side, looking at her with wide blue eyes and a chocolate-smeared nose as he licked his rapidly melting ice cream cone.

Instead of the playful response he'd hoped for, Sarah stared down at him with a melancholy sadness glazing her moss green eyes. Whether it had been a dream borne of her own selfish desires or a hallucination based in the fantasies of her too active imagination, much had happened in those brief few hours that seemed oddly real, and it all boiled down to this little boy with the angelic blue eyes and cherubic face. Suddenly, she stopped and scooped him up, hugging him so tightly she nearly crushed his rib cage. She'd come so close to losing him if the dream could be believed, and as much as it shamed her, she  _wanted_  to believe.

Desperately.

Because believing meant that magic existed. Believing meant there might be something beyond the realm of possibility. Believing meant-

"Ow-ow, hey! Lemme go!" Toby yelped, struggling in a desperate bid to keep his sister's hair out of his ice cream and still not lose it to the hot pavement. Succeeding in one and failing in the other, he watched the ice cream topple off the cone and land with a wet  _splat!_ as she released him. "Awwww, my ice cream…" he stared forlornly at the double scoop of chocolate goop that now lay melting on the sidewalk.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Toby!" Sarah said, contrite. "Here, let's go get you another one."

Toby perked up. "Okay, but you owe me a third scoop now," he trilled, demolishing what was left of his empty cone as he skipped off ahead of her in the direction of the ice cream cart.

" _Three?_  Your mom's going to kill me," she groaned, smacking the palm of her hand to her forehead.

~*O*~

"Really, Sarah, I thought you knew better than to get him all hyped up on sugar," Karen admonished when Toby went zooming full speed through the kitchen for the eighth time.

"Well, yes, but you weren't there,  _and_  I had to make up for making him lose the first one. It was only fair in his eyes. I couldn't argue with that. Could you?"

Karen looked up from the cutting board where she was slicing carrots and celery, and fixed Sarah with her trademark "look." "That's exactly the sort of thinking that kept getting you in trouble as a teenager," she said, shaking the knife at Sarah as if to punctuate the validity of her words.

"Oh, come now, Karen, let the boy have some fun with his sister while she's in town," said Robert as he came into the kitchen and gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek.

"Oh no, don't you start taking sides, Robert," Karen replied. "You know that's not-" the older woman stopped abruptly.

"Fair?" Sarah grinned at Karen as she reached over and snatched a slice of carrot. Karen rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she continued chopping. Sarah reached over to snatch another carrot only to have the other woman slap her fingers away. Grinning unrepentantly, Sarah turned toward her father. "Hi, daddy, how was work?"

"Oh, same as it was yesterday, same as it was last week, same as it has been for the last twenty years," he replied, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it on the back of a dining room chair.

"SSDD, huh? Sounds exciting."

"About as much as watching paint peel in the desert. What brings you to town this time?"

"Passing through. I'm writing an article on the philosophy and evolution of morals in children's stories. Fascinating subject, by the way, and I wanted to visit and pick the brain of one my old professors. Figured Karen would hang me if I didn't detour before I head home, and it's always good times taking Toby out."

"Well, if you need a place to stay the night, you know you're welcome to stay here," he offered.

"Thanks, I just might take you up on that. That way Toby and I can have a movie night before I head out tomorrow."

The object of her suggestion chose that moment to come barreling into the kitchen. It was amazing how children could zero in on plans for fun. It was like a sixth sense.

"Yeah! Can we rent Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3, Sarah? I saw it on a poster at the video store when we drove by. Please, please,  _pleeeaase_!"

"Sure, Tobes, whatever you want," Sarah replied, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "And we'll have pizza and soda pop. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah! Pizza! Just like the turtles!" he shouted, jumping and pumping a fist into the air. "This is gonna be the best night  _ever!_ "

At the kitchen island, Karen sighed and stopped chopping vegetables. "I guess these will keep until tomorrow, then."

"Sorry, Karen," Sarah grinned at the older woman as the boy went racing back out of the kitchen. "Gotta spoil him while I have the chance, you know."

Karen wrinkled her nose. "Couldn't you at least pick healthier food?"

"Now where would the fun in that be?" Sarah replied, snatching another carrot and walking out of the kitchen.

~*O*~

After eating three slices of pizza and half a bowl of popcorn, Toby passed out well before the end of the movie. Sarah smiled down at the child whose head was resting in her lap, running a hand through the soft, baby fine strands of blond hair. It was a simple and domestic action, and she found herself oddly content.

"He loves it when you come to visit."

Sarah looked up to see Karen standing at the edge of the living room in her pale pink silk robe, her arms crossed as though she were hugging herself against a chill. She looked back down at her brother, running her hand through the short length of his hair again. "He's a joy to spend time with."

"I have to be honest, Sarah. When he was a baby, I thought the age difference would always be a problem between you."

"I get that, but I'm glad I grew out of it. Nothing's worth missing this."

Karen smiled. "Wait until you have your own one day."

Sarah shook her head, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips. "We'll see.  _If_  that day ever comes. I haven't been doing so hot in the dating department lately. Until then, I'll just have to shower my affections on him for as long as he'll let me. He deserves that."

"You deserve that, too, Sarah."

"Perhaps," she replied, carefully sliding off the couch so she could pick up her brother. "I'll carry him up to bed."

"All right. I've made up the bed in your old room for you. I'll clean up down here if you'd like to go lay down after." Karen hesitated for a moment. "I know you'll probably want to get an early start tomorrow, but...you'll stay for breakfast, won't you?"

Sarah maneuvered the sleeping boy in her arms so that his head lay on her shoulder. Toby snuffled in his sleep, a small groan escaping his lips as she adjusted him. Sarah rested her head against his, hugging him close.

"Wouldn't miss it. You make the best honey pancakes, you know," Sarah replied, leaning over to give her stepmother a peck on the cheek as she walked by. "Thank you, Karen. I mean that."

Karen smiled softly. "I know you do."

Returning the smile, Sarah carried Toby up the stairs, taking them slowly so as not to jostle her sleeping brother. Pushing the door open to his room, she managed to avoid stepping on the plethora of toys scattered within. Once she had him tucked beneath the covers, she smoothed the hair back from his forehead and laid a kiss on his brow.

"Love you, little brother," she whispered.

Flipping on the nightlight, she caught sight of a familiar brown lump lying on the floor. Stooping to pick it up, she stared into the dull brown eyes of her old teddy bear, now even more tattered by age. Lancelot. Forcibly reminded of her dream once more, she frowned. Hadn't it begun with this shabby little bear? Shaking her head, she tucked the bear in next to Toby and quietly left the room.

Across the hall, she opened the door to her old bedroom. Though the action was familiar, the room was no longer her childhood haven. She'd officially moved out shortly after graduating, and since then, the room had been turned into a guest room. Gone were the posters and books, the stuffed animals and furniture. Even the wallpaper was different, changed to a pastel sage color during the renovation following her senior year in high school. In their place was a queen size bed, some watercolor prints of wildflowers, and a new set of dresser drawers. In the corner sat a full-length cheval mirror. She'd taken most of her things with her, and much of it still remained stored in boxes in her closets at her apartment. She told herself she would go through them eventually.

Rummaging in her overnight bag for her version of pajamas—an old t-shirt and shorts—she grabbed her toothbrush and stepped across the hall to the bathroom. When she was finished, she rolled up her old clothes and stuffed them in her bag, tossing it to the floor at the foot of the bed. Though it was late, she felt a nervous energy flowing through her. She sat down on the bay window seat and stared out into the night, her thoughts drifting in and out of memory.

Returning to this old house brought many recollections back to her. Most of them were happy, of birthdays and summers spent with friends, and vacations and holidays with family. Then there were the singular moments, such as prom, promotions, and graduations, Toby saying his first words, or their dad buying a new car. Reflecting on these always brought a smile to her face.

But there were other times, times when she had been anything but happy, times when she hated that her father had remarried and had a new baby. She'd felt as if he was trying to replace the family they had been before—that he was trying to replace  _her_. It took maturity and a strange dream of adventure to help her find her place in this new family. She appreciated that, was  _thankful_  for that, but sometimes...well, sometimes she just wished for a little bit of that magic to return.

She wrapped her arms around her legs and tucked her knees under her chin, glancing up at the night sky just in time to see a star streaking across the velvet darkness, a faint tail of white light trailing behind it.

"I move the stars for no one," she whispered.

And smiled.

Maybe magic did exist.

"Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!"

The bedroom door flung wide open, admitting a flying bundle of blond hair and Ninja Turtle pajamas to wake her up the next morning, the smell of frying bacon and the sweet scent of pancakes wafting into the room in its wake.

"Oompf, Toby!" Sarah cried, laughing as she disentangled herself from the mess of little boy and blankets.

"Mom said to wake you up, breakfast will be done soon!" he chirped cheerily.

"Okay, you rascal, I'm up, I'm awake. Tell her I'll be down in a few minutes," she replied, yawning.

"Okay!" Toby said, standing up to bounce off the edge of the bed with his rear. She swore he was running before his feet hit the floor.

"And no running down the stairs!" Sarah called after him, knowing he was already halfway down them by the sound of his feet.

Marveling at the amount of energy his little body could possess so early in the day, she took a moment to stretch leisurely in bed. She turned her head to look at the clock on the nightstand. 7:38 am. Karen must have got up by seven to start breakfast.

Tossing the rest of the blankets back, Sarah slowly made her way out of her cocoon of warmth. Standing up, she stretched again, one hand finding its way into her tangled hair, the other in front of her mouth as she yawned once more. Relaxing her body, she walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains to look out on the new day.

She could tell by the sleepy golden rays of sunlight that today wouldn't be nearly as warm as the day before. Already a slight breeze could be seen whispering through the leaves of the tree outside her window. Autumn was trying to reassert its hold on the weather.

A small fluttering object caught her eye at the base of the window, and she leaned closer to see it better. Just then, a gusty breeze hit the window, dislodging the bit of light-colored fluff, but she thought it might have been a feather. She struggled for a moment to think why that seemed like it should be familiar.

"Sarah! Breakfast is done!" Karen's voice floated up the stairs to her.

"Be down in a minute!" she called back. Shrugging to herself, she turned away from the window and bent to grab her bag, pulling out her clothes for the day.

A few minutes later found her sitting down at the dining room table with her family. Karen was setting down a plate of steaming pancakes, and her father was pouring a glass of milk for Toby.

"Good morning, sunshine," her father chuckled, noting that her hair was still in disarray. "Coffee?"

"Oh, god, yes, please," she said, holding her cup out to her father to pour the coveted brew.

She dropped a couple teaspoons of sugar and a little splash of milk into the steaming cup and gave it a quick stir. Lifting the aromatic brew to her lips, she inhaled deeply before taking a judicious sip of the hot liquid, her sigh of contentment audible.

"Thank you, daddy. Nothing beats the first cup of coffee in the morning."

"Blech!" chimed Toby, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Sarah made a face at him, to which he pantomimed sticking a finger down his throat. Her father merely raised his mug to her, settling back in his chair to read the morning paper while Karen finished setting the food out.

"I made extra in case you want to take some home with you, Sarah," Karen said, giving Toby the "look" when he continued to make retching noises.

"Thank you, that would be lovely," Sarah smiled. She would never turn down Karen's well-meaning attempts, but she would also never tell her that she fed them to the swans in the park on her way out of town. Pancakes really didn't keep that well as leftovers and were truly best eaten fresh.

Breakfast went by all too swiftly, punctuated by talk about jobs, Toby's schooling, and potential plans for the upcoming holidays. It wasn't long after that Sarah found herself next to her car with her family gathered around her, ready to say their goodbyes.

"Oh, Robert, did you ask her about that box we found in the attic?" Karen asked as Sarah bent to give Toby a hug.

"Hmm? Oh, that's right. There's a box we brought down from the attic last weekend. Seems to have some of your old things in it. We were going to ship it to you, but since you're here, well, let me just bring it out to you."

Curious, Sarah waited with Karen and Toby for her father to return. She couldn't think of anything she might have left behind. She'd either packed everything or donated it to the goodwill. Robert was gone for only a few moments before returning with a medium size box. He set it on the trunk of her car and Sarah peeled back the flaps. She was greeted first with the garland crown of flowers she used to wear as a teenager, and beneath it lay the soft, pale green material of the gown she would rehearse lines in the park with.

"Wow, I haven't seen these since..." she thought for a moment. A few days after the dream. She shook her head. "Thank you. I didn't realize I left this one behind."

After another round of hugs and goodbyes, Sarah stowed the box on the passenger seat with the foil-wrapped pancakes Karen had given her and got in the car. She waved goodbye out her window as she pulled out of the driveway.

A few minutes later found her pulling into the lot by the park for her traditional feeding of pancakes to the swans. Shutting the car off, she stared over at the box on the passenger seat. She had a ridiculous urge to put the gown on and run down into the park like she used to.

"What the hell. What's life without a little spontaneity?" she murmured to herself.

Reaching over, she carefully removed the garland crown and set it on the dash, then pulled out the dress, shaking the top half out and judging the fit. It might be a little tight across the chest, she thought, but she used to wear it over her school clothes and with the exception of her bust, she really wasn't much bigger than she had been then. Pulling the rest of the gown out, a discordant musical chime was heard as something hit the bottom of the box. Leaning over, Sarah peered inside.

At the bottom lay her old music box, the girl in the billowy dress looking abandoned and forlorn. Next to her was the statuette of the Goblin King as she'd imagined him, his hand with the crystal outstretched toward the girl, giving her a weird sense of déjà vu. Between them lay the familiar red cover of a book, the embossed gold lettering worn and faded. She left the figures alone, instead reaching in to pull out the little book.

"Through dangers untold..." she murmured, caressing the cover.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the compulsion to give in to her nostalgia, she cast a surreptitious glance out her car windows before shedding her flannel shirt and donning the gown. Wriggling in the driver's seat, she pulled it over her bosom until it settled, neat and snug against her body. That's strange, she thought, as she leaned forward to zip up the back without setting off the horn. Tilting the rearview mirror, she pulled her hair up, twisting it into the ribbons of the garland crown. Satisfied, she grabbed the little leather-bound book and stepped out of the car. Standing outside the door, she pulled off her sandals and wriggled out of her jeans, tossing them onto the driver's seat. Though the day was still young, it was still quite warm, but the heat of the sun was cooled by the insistent autumn breeze that swept through park.

Sarah re-donned her sandals and stood back, twirling once and watching the few wrinkles in the gown seem to magically fade with the motion. She marveled that the thing still seemed to fit her so well. Ignoring the one or two strange looks she had received from passersby so far, she reached back into the car for the pancakes and her keys. Locking the doors, she tucked the pancakes and her book under one arm, and began the trek down to the pond.

The path she took today was a familiar one, though long untraveled by her own feet. She couldn't say for sure why she avoided it, but even when she brought Toby here, she would come into the park from a different direction, the same direction she usually took when she came to feed the swans before leaving town, though both paths eventually led to the stone bridges spanning the pond. Well, it was a creek really, it just happened to open up into a large body of water that was generally referred to as a pond. Walking along swiftly, Sarah kept her head bowed to avoid the curious looks of anyone she might pass, though the park was mostly deserted for this time of day. She found that odd, as it seemed like there should be more people out, either jogging or walking their dogs, trying to enjoy the last bit of the season's warmth before the cold could set in fully.

When she came to the first little bridge, she slowed down, taking in the familiar setting. The grass wasn't as green as it would have been during the spring season when she had come here last, and the trees in their multicolored regalia had grown up a bit more, but little else had changed. The stone bench, perhaps, looked a little more weather worn, as did the nearby obelisk that a white barn owl had once perched upon that fateful day. In her mind's eye, she could still see her loyal companion, Merlin, seated upon the bench, her ever faithful audience. She closed her eyes, the memory superimposed over the present a little more painful than she could bear. Merlin had passed on while she was at college due to an enlarged heart, a rare condition, and one day it simply gave out. The vet assured her family that it would have been quick, that he'd gone to sleep and suffered little. She still missed her shaggy friend, however.

With a mild shake, Sarah snapped out of her little mood of introspection and looked out across the water, a quiet smile gracing her lips as she noted that the swans were out. She stood for a moment to watch them, their white feathers gleaming in the morning sun, and their crested necks arching elegantly as they raised their beaks from the water, droplets sparkling like white diamonds caught in the sun before they fell.

She turned and walked along the edge of the pond, following the little embankment until she reached the point that the pond fed itself back into the creek. There were more trees here, a mix of new and old growth, and the farther she walked, the more it gave the illusion of a small woodland. It wasn't long before she found herself beneath the outspread branches of an old oak that rose majestically above its youthful counterparts. Warm sunlight lanced through the fiery autumnal crown of leaves, spilling dappled shades of violet and gold upon the ground. Placing her hand against the warm bark of its gnarled trunk, Sarah bowed her head in greeting, as though she were paying homage, and in a way, she supposed she was.

Many times this old oak had served as her haven, her bower, her sanctum of comfort and tranquility. Here she had held court and pretended to have conversations with all manner of beings, for lore said that oak trees were not only guardians, but doorways, portals between the fantastical realms of magic and mortal kind. Here she had been queen, princess, a lady of distinction, and a multitude of feminine heroines that marched through the pages of her scripts in the name of valorous deeds and unrequited love. It seemed an age ago now, but dressed in her gown, the little red book held close, she could clearly remember her final performance, the last great memory of adventure that changed her life before she put such childish notions to rest. It seemed improbable, but as the recollection of her past regaled her beneath the boughs, she could swear she felt the life beat of the tree beneath her fingertips, that faint surge of magic she used to imagine that brought her fantasies to life in crystal clarity.

Bringing the tips of her fingers to her lips, she curtsied before the great tree, her reverence for the aged guardian renewed. This was their ritual, and upon completion, she felt the breeze that blew faintly through the leaves swirl around her, lifting her skirts as if in greeting, welcoming her return. She smiled. It was these sort of things that made it so easy to imagine herself back in her world of make-believe.

Finding herself a comfortable place to sit on the leaf-strewn ground near the embankment of the quiet creek, Sarah set aside her foil-wrapped swan treats and opened the well-worn cover of the little red book. The story had been familiar once, and though it seemed she had forgotten much, the words greeted her like old friends, her dream slotting into place with every paragraph.

She was utterly absorbed in the rereading of the tale when a particularly strong gust of wind wrapped around her, brisk with the chill of autumn that set the pages to fluttering wildly in her hand. With a dismayed gasp, she snapped the book shut and held it close, waiting for the breeze to settle. Watching the ripples dance across the surface of the creek, it was only a moment or two later before they calmed. Casting a wary glance to her surroundings, she cautiously reopened the book, flipping through the pages to find her place. Settling once more into the story, she was oblivious to the stirring of the wind or the fallen leaves that skittered along the ground.

"Here, this is my favorite part," a smooth, lightly accented, and distinctly masculine voice said over her shoulder, accompanied by a gloved hand that smoothed over the page she had just turned.

Sarah let out a startled yelp and froze, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest as she stared at the hand encased in soft black leather that rested upon the page. Turning her head a fraction, she followed her line of sight up the arm, noting the style of the brown leather sleeve, and in her peripheral vision, she caught a glimpse of wispy blond hair, the tips blowing lightly over her shoulder. She closed her eyes and shook her head, blood roaring in her ears as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

"No. No, it's not possible," she whispered.

Sarah took a deep breath, attempting to calm her fraying nerves, but as she inhaled she caught the scent of something both familiar and evocative. It was a heady scent, reminiscent of an ancient woodland after a fresh spring rain when the earth is damp and loamy and filled with renewed promise. Intermingled with that was a richer scent, a familiar scent, the scent of magic, wild and musky, a scent redolent of her dreams.

"I rather thought humans were fond of the saying ' _nothing_  is impossible,'" the voice replied, the smooth cadence of the syllables washing over her auditory senses like a soothing balm. Sarah intuitively felt him lean closer, the warmth of his body sparking flashes of memory in her mind, of spinning and dancing, held in the circle of his embrace.

Sarah nodded her head slowly. "But humans don't expect to be met with their hallucinations when they say it."

He gave a quiet chuckle, the throaty sound borderline to a purr that caused her belly to flutter. "Open your eyes, Sarah," he said, his warm breath tickling the fine hairs of her neck, sending shivers of sensation skittering up and down her spine and awakening other senses she knew she should not be feeling.

She shook her head. "No. If I open my eyes, then this will all be a dream. You're not real. You can't be."

The sound of creaking leather told her he had shifted closer to her, and her heart began to throb wildly, the strength of the fluttering in her belly almost painful as she wondered what he was doing. Then she felt the weight of his hand slide down the page of her book to briefly cover hers before gently tugging it from her grasp. Folding her now empty hands in her lap, she heard a rustling noise, and imagined he was setting it down beside them. The next thing she felt was his hand caressing down her cheek to cup her jaw, turning her face toward him. The heat radiating from his gloved palm reinforced the yearning she had long kept concealed, and her heart skipped a beat, making her breath catch.

"Open your eyes, Precious," he said again, his voice firm, yet oddly gentle.

The endearment stirred to life a strange feeling within her, a faded memory of a sad song barely heard as she searched frantically for a way to retrieve her brother. Drawing in another breath, Sarah filled her lungs with the scent of him and leaned into his touch. Slowly, she opened her eyes, an ineffable sadness welling up in their verdant depths as she finally brought herself to look upon him. He looked almost exactly as she remembered him. His hair was slightly longer, giving it a more tamed appearance, making him look a little less rockstar and bit more fae, but his face was the same. The upswept brows and lines of shadow clearly defined the duality of his eyes, that peculiar quality that made him seem both ethereal and beautiful. She gave him a sad smile.

"And when I wake up, and the illusion is gone, what am I to do then?"

He stroked his thumb against her face, brushing away the tear that slipped unbidden down her cheek.

"Illusions are merely figments of the imagination. You cannot touch an illusion. Dreams, however," he paused, his hand brushing along her jaw until his fingers curled beneath her chin, tilting her face up so that her eyes looked into his, "dreams are attainable, if you believe in them. Think carefully, Sarah, is this an illusion or a dream?"

She searched his eyes with her own, looking for any hint of the beguilement she remembered him for. She wanted to believe, but she couldn't bear the thought that he might be deceiving her once more, that he might still be the nefarious villain of her fantastical quest. She knew in her heart what she wanted, but the thought that she might be delusional kept her from making a decision. She felt vulnerable.

"I don't know," she replied, her voice betraying the yearning she felt. She thought she heard him growl, but the sound was so low, she couldn't be sure.

"I cannot give you the answer, Sarah. You know in your heart what you wish for. Stop letting your mind cloud your judgment!" His voice was sharp, but not unkind.

Taken aback by the display of frustration he evinced, she studied him for a moment. He met her gaze steadily, waiting, the variation of color between his eyes shifting ever so slightly from blue to amber and back again. She felt like there was some sort of emotion he was holding back, but whether it was exasperation or desperation, she couldn't be sure. She took a deep breath, preparing for a leap of faith not unlike one she had taken in another dream. Goaded by the fear that she might lose this chance, real or imagined though it might be, she drew up her courage and raised herself slightly, shifting on her knees to face him.

Except now, confronted with the full impact of his appearance as he crouched before her, familiar in his asymmetrical jacket and tattered cloak, Sarah swallowed and her gaze wavered. Her lashes brushed her cheeks as she closed her eyes, steeling herself for the disappointment she was sure would follow her declaration. Yet, when she opened them, there was a fierce determination burning in their mossy depths and a quiet resolve written in the set of her shoulders.

"Fine. I wish this was more than illusion, more than dream. I wish this was real. I didn't understand it then, but I needed you. I needed all of you, but it was you I needed most of all."

One side of his mouth tilted up slightly, the elegant arch of his brows relaxing as he reached down and took her hand in one of his. "And now?"

"And now?" she paused, considering her words as she stared at the hand encompassing her own. "Now...I still need you. I never stopped wishing there had been another alternative, a different outcome. But dreams are just dreams, they rarely have basis in reality."

"And that is the illusion that dreams engender."

She frowned, her brows knitting in confusion as she looked back up at him. "What do you mean?"

"All dreams have a basis in reality, Sarah. They are born from your desires, your wishes. It is the strength of your belief that determines their reality."

Sarah flexed the hand he held, her fingers grasping his as if to reassure herself he was really there. If he wasn't, then this was one hell of a hallucination.

"If what you say is true, doesn't that mean you only exist because I dreamed it? Because if that's not completely delusional, I don't know what is," she huffed.

He laughed softly, the irregular points of his teeth visible as he smiled down at her. Her heart gave a curious flutter at the sight. How could someone who looked so deliciously wicked be so impossibly charming at the same time? She wondered briefly if this was the way he had been with Toby.

"No. The existence of fae has never been in question, only the belief. It is belief that dictates the level of our interaction, and you, Sarah, believed so strongly that you lifted the veil between worlds."

Sarah raised herself to her knees then, one hand reaching forward to gently touch his cheek with her fingertips, as if to further reassure herself that by touching him of her own volition, it would validate his existence. He gave her an amused look as she traced the line of his cheekbone, her fingers sliding down to brush tentatively along his jaw. He caught her hand then, turning her wrist upward and placing a gentle kiss against her palm, his lips soft against her skin. Sarah inhaled sharply, and turned her face away.

"I should be ashamed of my wishes, but I... you..." she shook her head, unable to articulate what she was trying to say.

"You dreamed of me, and believed with such conviction that when you made your wish, I came. Not once did you stall in that belief, in spite of your fear. Even now, you fear me, but I wonder..."

With a sudden movement, he pulled her toward him, catching her up in his arms, her gasp of surprise silenced by his lips on hers. Sarah's heart raced, the blood pulsing in her veins dancing a chaotic counterpoint to the rush of magic that suddenly electrified her senses, short circuiting her ability to think of anything but his lips moving against hers; warm, firm, and definitely  _real_. Aware only of her body pressed against his as he held her, she felt his hand slide into her hair, tilting her head as he deepened their kiss, his tongue delving into the hidden recesses of her mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, like honeyed dew and the tang of something exotic that she couldn't name. Placed in a situation she could never have even fathomed, but desired more than she would have ever admitted, she found herself responding with a fierce intensity that had her digging her nails into the smooth leather covering his shoulders, her tongue warring with his; hers for affirmation, his for her surrender.

The fluttering in her belly blossomed as his other hand slid down her back to cup her rear and pull her closer, lifting her up so that she aligned intimately against him, ensuring she felt the unmistakable response she ignited in him. Petals of heat curled outward, heightening the sensitivity of her skin, the soft peaks of her breasts hardening and pulling tight against her dress as the heated flush of arousal unfurled within her body, causing her to whimper with quiet urgency as it centered itself in a hot pool of liquid desire between her thighs. Never would she have imagined that when she woke up this morning, she would be liplocked with her heart's most ardent wish, the sweet and lustful ache of need thrumming throughout her body in answer to the allure of dark promise in his kiss.

When she felt herself begin to struggle for breath, he broke the kiss, chuckling quietly as he nuzzled her neck, nipping gently at her collarbone as her head fell back in stupefied wonder, his name an inarticulate sigh upon her lips. He smirked down at the dazed expression she knew was in her eyes, her chest heaving against him. It couldn't be helped. By all that was holy, if that was what a single kiss could do to her...

"Perhaps there is hope yet," he said, tracing the edge of her neckline with a gloved finger, blazing a trail of tingling sensation that raised goosebumps in its wake, fueled further by the soft brush of wind that teased between them. "I asked you to love me once, do you know why?"

She lifted her head, attempting to bring herself back to earth with each shallow breath. "Because of 'what no one knew...?'"

He chuckled again, sunlight glinting off the beaten silver of his pendant. Still holding her close, he turned his other hand with a small flourish, a familiar crystalline sphere rolling into his palm. Sarah gave the crystal a wary glance as he held it up to her. "What did I say the first time I made this offer?"

"You said it would show me my dreams."

"And so it would have, but you refused. You didn't need to see what you already knew. However, I believe I told you it was a gift." He let the crystal dance over his hand, once, then twice, before letting it come to rest on his fingertips. "And the second time?"

She looked at the crystal, his words coming to her as clearly as if he'd spoken them again, but this time she heard them with a different connotation. ' _Look, Sarah, look what I'm offering you_ _...your dreams.'_

Seeing the light of understanding dawning in her eyes, he smirked. "No longer to  _show_  you your dreams, but to make them reality. Did it ever occur to you  _why_  I would make such an offer?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, not really. The whole thing seemed a bit pervy at the time."

His laughter rang out against the chill of a brisk wind, the breeze laced with magic and the rich scent of autumn. "Things would have followed, in time, had you accepted. It was your strength of belief I sought. To have that kind of power... You were never an ordinary girl, Sarah. Together, we would have been a force to be reckoned with, if only you had let me in."

"But you wanted me to give up my freedom, to give you power over me."

His eyes darkened, and she could feel the thrum of wild magic twining around her. "Think precisely about what I said, Precious."

 _'Just let me rule you, and you can have_ everything _that you want... Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.'_

"Oh..." she whispered. "Well, damn."

"Ah, you see now. I offered to reciprocate everything I begged of you. What is the balance of love, if not to ensure equal footing in a potential liason?"

"Well, it certainly didn't sound that way," she muttered, looking down at the finger she was tracing over his chest.

"I was bound by rules you set in motion on invocation, Sarah. You had expectations I was required to meet while being constrained by your adolescence. I could only work within the limitations  _you_  set for me. It was you who had the power all along. It is  _you_  who has power over  _me_."

He released her then, pulling her up with him as he stood up. The breeze danced around the hem of her gown and caught at the edges of his cloak, swirling leaves and tiny flecks of glitter around them. She glanced around her, realizing that they were no longer on the little embankment of the creek in the park, but within the forest near the center of the Labyrinth. Startled, she turned around, noting with astonishment that the tree they stood beneath was still her tree, her guardian oak, the doorway between realms. She felt him step up behind her, his arm wrapping around her waist while his other directed her attention through the foliage to see the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, a familiar silhouette against the pale blue cast of the Underground sky.

"Even now, you dream, Precious, and your belief is unprecedented," he murmured, pressing his lips against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, eliciting a trail of shivers that ran down her spine and spread in languid curls low in her belly. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him, his firm presence reassuring in a way she would never have dreamed possible. He grasped her hand, turning it palm up and placing the crystalline sphere within it. "And now, I'm going to make you the same offer once more."

Sarah lifted her hand, tentatively caressing the smooth skin of the sphere. She paused. "But what about my family? My brother? I can't leave him behind, no matter how much I dream of this, or you."

He turned her back around to face him, amusement glittering in his eyes as he stroked her cheek. "I would not ask you to abandon him. The boy is as welcome in this realm as you are.  _Think_ , Sarah, have I not done everything you ever wanted, in spite of your defiances?"

"So I wouldn't be bound here? I would be free to come and go?"

"For as long as you wish to do so."

"No illusions? No deceptions?"

"I want you to love me, Sarah, not have reasons to commit regicide."

She smiled at that. "And this?" she hefted the crystal in her hands, the orb radiating a soft golden glow. "Does this seal some sort of pact between us?"

He tilted her face up, leaning down until his lips were mere centimeters from hers as he answered. "No. Any pact you seal with me will be done in more... _intimate_...ways. Understand that, should you accept, I will not let you go a second time."

Unperturbed by the hint of possessiveness inherent in his tone, Sarah felt her blood grow warm at the faint growl he emitted as she pressed her lips to his, her hands sliding over his shoulders to twine around his neck as she pulled him close. She didn't feel the crystal burst in her hand, her answer writ in the swarm of gold and silver glitter surrounding them, caught by the breeze that swirled up to eddy in lazy spirals on the drifting current, sparkling motes that danced between the autumnal leaves of an ancient oak that bore witness to the union of two lost and lonely souls.

**Author's Note:**

> And here ends this saccharine tale of fluffy sweetness. You see, this is the sort of stuff dreams are made of, the seed of truth hidden beneath the layers of illusion in every fairytale. Where anything imagined is possible, the strength of belief is its own magic, and happily ever after is a dream worthy of pursuing.
> 
> Because, in truth, happily ever afters are merely dreams of forever...
> 
> ...And that's not long at all.
> 
> Crystalline Dreams,  
> ~*~ Sheyrina, Labyrinthian Dragon


End file.
